Strokes of Fortune
by Acerze
Summary: A lone android makes his way in a similar yet dissimilar war-torn world. Drawn into the treacherous politics and chaos of Eastern Europe, he must come to terms with his past to challenge the future. Takes place Pre-Butterfly Incident.
1. Prologue

****A/N: So I've had this story for a while, written a handful of chapters for it that I'm still editing. In fact, if you're here from _Yet Another World_ both stories came into existence around the same time. I just wasn't sure about this one, but I decided to take the plunge. Expect Chapter 1 in a day or so as I finish editing it. The later chapters are pretty raw so I'll have to take some time to review them.****

* * *

**Strokes of Fortune**

**Prologue**

* * *

_There was a slight rustle as someone pushed the canvas entrance flap aside, stepping inside the tent silently._

_She knew who it was immediately, only one person would visit her this late at night._

_"Just a second." She didn't bother looking up. There were still reports that required immediate reading or sorting._

_For several moments there was only the faint whisper of wind, coupled with the varied ambiance of the typical desert night. She loved these sounds, it reminded her that this was her home, that this was where she belonged._

_"Is it true?" A masculine voice sounded from her visitor as soon as he saw she was finished with her work._

_"Is what true?" She feigned ignorance, but it was all too obvious what he was referring to._

_"You put my name forward." His voice was level, but she could hear the faint accusatory tones within._

_"Ah." She paused, "You were the best fit."_

_"..." He fell silent. When he spoke again his voice contained a mixture of agitation and confusion, "I don't understand. I should be here, with you and everyone else! Not on some other forsaken continent!"_

_"Could you trust anyone else here to perform at the same level- No, to perform to the same standard that you hold yourself to?" She countered smoothly, yet rhetorically. They both already knew the answer to that._

_"..." He lapsed into silence once again._

_She was being unfair, she knew. He loved this place as much as she did, if not more. It was his home as much as it was hers. But in all honesty, there simply wasn't any other choice._

_"I...would rather have you stay too," She said softly, "But..."_

_"...This isn't something we can ignore." His voice had lost all heat, only resignation left behind._

_"That's right." Her voice turned sly, "Besides, even my little 'brother' has to leave home someday."_

_He only gave a snort in response, but from the lightened expression on his face she could tell that she'd said the right thing._

_Now, if only she could assure herself that she'd made the right choice..._

* * *

"I promise you that all this will change, someday..."

She wasn't alone anymore.

At first, the only emotion she could feel was joy, followed by relief. There was someone here that she could consider a friend, someone who would rely on her. A little sister for her to take care of.

Those feelings were taken away swiftly.

Her friend...her sister...was only meant to be her replacement. A tool to replace the first if it broke. Things slowly became clearer. She'd been different from her "comrades" since the beginning, but she hadn't known why.

It was because she was never meant to fit in at all.

But having just one of her would be risky for those who were really in control, so they sent a backup soon after.

She began to connect the dots. What was their purpose? The specifics weren't known to her, not yet, but it was easy to get the gist of it. They were to be sacrificed in the future, mere pawns in a "greater" game.

Anger rose to the forefront. Resentment soon after. And then came despair. But, somehow, at the end of it all, one feeling rose above all the others.

Love. Love for the one who ended her loneliness, love for her friend, for her only family.

She hadn't chosen to be the "key". She hadn't chosen to become a tool to be used and disposed of. And the girl in front of her hadn't chosen to be her "backup", barely even a spare thought. There was no fault to be found with either of them. They'd both been given the short end of fate, and they were both going to suffer for it.

It didn't have to go on like this, they didn't both have to succumb to the same end. It could be different.

It would be different.

So, instead of acting upon the darker thoughts that had begun to plague her, Tactical Doll UMP-40 instead continued to reach out with both smile and laughter, embracing her dearest sister, Tactical Doll UMP-45, tighter than ever before.

What she didn't count on was that while she planned to change the fate of her cherished sister, another would shift the fortunes of both of them.

And that...that would make all the difference.

**Prologue End**

_Word Count Before A/N: 758 words_


	2. Chapter 1

**A/N: Here we go! Two of my favorite, yet not-so-widely written series combined into one little crossover. Do let me know what you think!**

* * *

**Strokes of Fortune**

**Chapter 1 - The Foreigner**

* * *

_"If we move now, we'll be going against orders!"_

_He noted the protest, ignored it, and continued with his current course of action._

_"Leader, please listen!"_

_Despite only recently arriving to take control, he'd already gained many loyal followers. It made his job easier, but his preferred manner of leadership also allowed for his subordinates to voice their opinions. Which they were doing so rather generously at the moment._

_Still, they deserved an answer._

_"I'll take full responsibility." He said flatly, "If they want to charge anyone with insubordination, or even treason, only I'll be at risk."_

_His words had silenced them. Most were shocked, and many had expressions of protest. He kept speaking._

_"To them, we're foot soldiers, meant to be used as needed so that they can achieve their own objectives. But ask yourselves now, what's our objective?"_

_He looked around. His question had caught them off guard._

_"It's survival, isn't it? We fight to survive, to live, to...exist." He frowned at that point, "It's not that sacrifices aren't necessary, but we have the right to decide when they are. I've decided. Our orders...our sacrifices...aren't necessary for the success of this operation. They just want us to foot the bill so they don't have to."_

_He could see realization dawning on them. They were his people. He'd sworn an oath to protect them, but he'd also sworn to lead them._

_"I reject that. The mission will be accomplished, but on our terms. Understood?"_

_The silence was brief. He knew he'd convinced them, the fire in their eyes was only the most obvious indicator. Their voices called out in assent._

_And as one, they vowed to follow him no matter where his path leads them._

_Always onward._

* * *

"Hey, at least you're hitting 40% accuracy consistently now! Cheer up, would ya?"

Tactical Doll UMP-40 was doing her utmost to cheer up her disheartened sister, Tactical Doll UMP-45.

"I haven't been able to pass 45% yet..."

"Look, you haven't backslid for almost a week! That's progress, okay? Now, we'll work on increasing your overall accuracy, but remember that consistency is just as important!"

It was a rather common routine between the two outcast T-Dolls. They were alone in the drill hall, having come early enough so that they wouldn't disturb the more "proper" Griffon & Kryuger T-Doll's training.

At a glance, the two truly did look like real human sisters in both face and body despite their artificial origins. The main differences between them consisted of their attire and the shades of their hair.

40 was slightly taller, wearing a slim green jacket over a black jersey and skirt; her long legs covered by black leggings and gray military shoes on her feet. Her equipment consisted of a large hand radio, a backpack, and of course, her namesake gun, the UMP-40. Unlike her more withdrawn sister, her face gave off an air of cheerfulness, her light olive green eyes framed by long locks of faded green-gray hair complete with a black ribbon as a hairband.

45 wore an oversized black hoodie paired with a matching skirt, both with yellow highlights; underneath that hoodie was a white buttoned shirt and a black tactical vest that displayed the word "Griffon". Around her neck was a black scarf or bandanna, on her legs she wore black leggings. 45 had a more timid demeanor, soft golden eyes stood out from a face that gave only small smiles in contrast to the wide grins of her older sister. 45's long hair was a faded brown in color, with some of it tied into a side-ponytail of sorts.

The both of them were T-dolls assigned to the private military contractor, Griffon & Kryuger, or G&K for short. However, due to the way they were built, they had mostly useless electronic warfare modules installed that lessened the space available for their combat programs. G&K primarily used T-dolls as small arms combatants, so their lack of proper combat systems made them less valuable in the eyes of many G&K officers.

UMP-45 was naturally drawn to the more senior UMP-40, who had more time to acclimatize to their new home. While 40 was more than happy to have someone to connect and interact with and the two became nearly inseparable.

"..." 45 glared balefully at her score for a few more moments before sighing, "You're right. I'll just have to keep trying."

"Yup! And next I'll share some of my data on dynamic aiming. This'll help you acquire targets more quickly and efficiently during the active drills. I struggled with it a lot, so you'd better be thankful!" 40 threw an arm around 45's shoulder, rocking them back and forth energetically.

"I'm always grateful, 40." 45's face turned a bit red, her voice only a little higher than a whisper.

"Hehe, that's right! Now, let's get something to eat!" 40 gave her shoulder one last squeeze, before pointing to the exit.

"Wait, we should clean up first..." 45 objected, indicating towards the bullet riddled targets and spent casings. Their training was split between both virtual drills and live-fire exercises, this morning they'd done the latter.

"Che~" 40 gave a fake pout, pursing her lips cutely, "Leave it to the cleaners! It's not like anyone else cleans up after themselves..."

"I don't want to be a bother..." 45's expression turned more somber. 40 frowned at that. She'd been trying to raise the girl's self-esteem ever since they first met, but it was definitely still a work in progress. The only problem was that it wasn't only the drill instructor they reported to, no one at G&K seemed to care much for either of them.

_But...is she considering herself lower than even janitorial staff or A-Dolls? They'd just be doing their jobs..._

"...Okay." 40 exhaled, her cheeriness diminished a little. It would take little steps to improve 45's mental state, she just had to be patient, "Let's get cracking then. I'm starving!"

But before they could begin the cleanup, there was the sound of someone entering the drill hall. Once they turned and saw who'd come in, the two T-doll's hearts dropped. It was the drill instructor that commanded them.

His face registered mild surprise at seeing the two of them, before morphing into a sneer that either conveyed disgust or contempt, 40 didn't know which. His expression might've been schooled to attempt to intimidate others, but his greasy and rather unattractive visage instead reminded most people of a pig with indigestion. Regardless of how hopeless his facade was, his appearance still affected the two of them.

Almost immediately, 40 could feel 45 withdrawing deeper into her shell, causing her to feel a flash of uncharacteristic anger. Both 40 and 45 had faced his disparaging rage and roaring bluster when they hadn't performed as well as he believed they should've. They'd drilled harder and more often than anyone else, but it was never enough for that man. Eventually, he'd given up on them, despite the fact they still wanted to get better, and he'd reversed course, ridiculing them whenever he saw them trying to train.

40 had little faith in her superiors, and her drive to improve now stemmed mostly from personal motivation. As a result, it was easier for her to shrug off the dismissive attitude of the human commanders. But 45 wanted to be important to them, to be a proper member of a team with a commander that relied on her. She was much more vulnerable to his hatred due to that.

40 hadn't actually met too many humans, but she did know that she detested the man that was now approaching them. It was outright hypocrisy to first treat them like trash because they couldn't improve despite their efforts, and then switch to belittling them for still trying in the end.

"I don't know why you wastes of materials even show up here anymore." The man's arrogant voice broke the silence once he'd come close enough; he glanced at the spent shells and used targets, "And now you're using up our live ammunition too?"

"U-Um..." 45 quailed under the man's glare, unable to meet his eyes.

"We have proper authorization, sir." 40 said, her voice straining against the border of proper respect towards a superior.

"Hmph," he snorted, "You should know when something's worth doing and when it's a waste of time. You've been here long enough, after all. Your performance on missions is average at best, and 45 hasn't been on a single operation. Doesn't that mean anything to either of you?"

45 seemed to be shrinking smaller and smaller, while 40 ground her teeth in anger. But they couldn't speak up. This man had direct command authorization over them, and they weren't permitted to openly argue against anything he said or did.

Their one-sided face-off was broken by the sound of a yawn followed by another voice chiming in.

"Fuah~...Now, now. This all sounds a bit harsh to me." The three of them wheeled around to face the newcomer, who approached from the direction of the break area located towards the far corner of the drill hall.

His appearance surprised all three of them. The first impression they got was that of a vagabond or wanderer. The newcomer was a man that wore a ragged cloak made of thick white cloth, stained with age and use. He had a matching scarf and a strange round hat. He was tan, much more than any Eastern European would be, probably of Mediterranean descent. He was young-looking, early-to-mid twenties, with spiky hair that was a bit longer than average for a man, tied into a small sharp ponytail. His expression was relaxed, loose even, but there was a deeper layer to his expression that 40 couldn't quite discern.

"What the...who the hell are you?" The drill instructor glared at the interloper, "How'd you get in here?"

"I've been here since last night...?" He looked at the drill instructor like he was crazy, which only served to infuriate the blowhard. The stranger then pointed towards the break area, "I have to say, those benches aren't very comfortable for sleeping. I'd rather be camping outdoors, to be honest."

_He was here the whole time...? How? I feel like I should've noticed...wait, why's he acting like he just woke up? There's no way he slept through our drills..._

"H-How-, who do you think-, just what-!?" The drill commander had lost his composure, blustering rather than giving a proper response. It was an amusing sight to 40.

She also idly noted that the commander was angered over the lack of deference the stranger was displaying, while he should've been concerned over the fact that a stranger was somehow within the G&K facilities unsupervised. It spoke a lot to her about the priorities that their commander had.

"More importantly, I see you don't seem to think very highly of these two..." The stranger gestured airily at 40 and 45.

Happy to have something he could easily talk about, the commander nodded heftily in agreement while the dolls shrunk back in shame, "They're absolutely worthless. Even if they manage to consistently get passable performance records, which I highly doubt, the cost of fielding them would probably be more than any profit or benefit we could squeeze out of them."

"Hmm, is that so..." The man turned to look at the two in question. His expression was neutrally blank, but his eyes shined with...mischievousness? 40 wasn't quite sure, but she was certainly confused at the friendliness he conveyed, "Then, how about you give them to me?"

The sheer absurdity combined with the absolute seriousness in his tone caused the drill instructor to stumble once again, "Wha-! These two are G&K property! And my responsibility! You think I could just give them away!?"

On 40's and 45's part, they had to stop their jaws from dropping in disbelief. This stranger had asked to take ownership of them? Two underperforming T-dolls? Just like that?

"Okay, okay," The stranger held up his hands to stop the verbal tirade, before squinting at the instructors's uniform, "My bad...um...Master Sergeant."

The drill instructor looked happy to have his real rank acknowledged (He was a senior Drill Instructor, after all), but that changed to shock as the stranger continued talking and gesturing.

"I just thought you might be pretty busy so I could take them off of your hands," The stranger reached up to rub the back of his neck, almost purposefully shifting his rough cloak aside and displaying what he was wearing underneath it.

It was an immaculate G&K officer's uniform. His "innocent" gesture also highlighted the rank emblem emblazoned on his shoulders. It was that small embroidered insignia that everyone's eyes were drawn to. It denoted that he was a senior Field Commander of G&K, which in standard military terms would range from Captain to Major in rank. The surprise felt by everyone present was almost tangible in the air. The contrast between how they perceived him a few seconds earlier and how they saw him now was just as large as the contrast between the dirty rags he wore and the pristine uniform underneath them.

"Are you sure you require these two for your tasking?" He asked the instructor once again.

"U-Uh...On second thought, perhaps I could arrange to have them transferred to you." The lower-ranked man's tone had become much more respectful. A thin sheen of sweat glistened on his already greasy face.

"No no, I wouldn't want to waste your time like that. You can just do a verbal transfer, I'll take care of any paperwork." The stranger, for all intents and purposes, sounded friendly, but 40 realized that he'd been in control of the conversation from the start. A lowly drill instructor couldn't afford to risk annoying a Field Commander.

She also knew that a verbal transfer was extraordinarily uncommon, both because of informality and lack of documentation. She couldn't even begin to guess why he'd requested one, especially for dolls like them. But she wasn't about to complain.

"Ah...well...I suppose it's fine..." The drill commander hesitated for a few moments before making up his mind, then turned to the dolls, "UMP-45, and UMP-40, I'm transferring command authorization for both of you to Field Commander...?"

"My mistake, my name's Amar. A-M-A-R" He made a complicated expression, as if something about his name bothered him.

"To Field Commander Amar. I hereby release you from any responsibility to me as a superior officer." He stopped, his old sneer returning, "...Perform your new duties well."

"Understood!" "U-Understood!"

The dolls were having a hard time keeping up with the rapid turn of events.

All of a sudden there was a Field Commander who had an eye on them? And he immediately became their superior? What was going on?

"Field Commander, are you sure you want these two? I can recommend some other very capable dolls." The drill commander knew that good reviews of dolls that he'd trained could lead to promotions in the future, but to him, the idea of 40 or 45 performing well was quite alien.

"Yes, that'll be all." Amar sounded bored now, as if everything exciting had already come to pass, "I'm sure you'll be occupied with today's schedule, so I don't want to get in your way anymore."

It was a polite, but firm, dismissal. The drill instructor didn't move for a few seconds, took a few uncertain steps towards the exit, then stopped to shoot a glare at the sisters that said "don't you dare embarrass me", and continued out of the room.

The drill hall lapsed into silence as Field Commander Amar and the two dolls observed one another.

45 was nervous, keeping her head down, but her expression contained an emotion she hadn't felt in some time: Hope. Was this commander going to give them a chance to be useful? She truly, dearly, wished that that would be the case.

40 was a bit more wary, as she couldn't gauge what the man's intentions were. And, secretly, she also knew at least some of the truths concerning her and 45's origins; some of the reasons behind why they were different from the standard T-doll. Still, a small part of her carried the same hope 45 currently felt, but it was tempered by the worry that this man might be part of a sort of greater plot that placed them at G&K in the first place.

Both dolls knew and agreed on one thing though: The G&K staff they were familiar with well and truly cared nothing for them. A verbal transfer done on the spur of the moment was near unheard of, not to mention it was a gross breach in protocol. The fact that their drill instructor had handed them over so easily was because he really didn't care, and probably saw it as an opportunity to do a favor for a higher, albeit misguided (from his point of view), ranking officer. The last nail in the coffin was that he had done it so quickly that he probably didn't even consider the fact that another superior could reprimand him for not following protocol. Were they that distant from being worthy of consideration?

Amar glanced at the exit the jerk had left through, before sighing softly, "Those guys really don't give a damn about you two, do they?"

His words stung, much more than when those words had stayed within their thoughts. They fought down flushes as they realized their new commander had come to the same conclusions they had in only a few moments.

"I'm not sure I even like Griffon & Kryuger yet...and that guy really didn't help. Please tell me they're not all like that," Their new commander grinned in what was most likely an attempt to lighten the mood. However, the dolls just tilted their heads in puzzlement.

"Um, sir, aren't you a Field Commander here? What do you mean by that?" 45 asked tentatively.

"Well now, I'm glad you asked, UMP-45!" His grin widened, before he abruptly launched into an over-dramatic story, surprising the dolls, "I'm actually new here. I'm also pretty awesome though, so I got this neat uniform and rank. I can tell you more about that later though, first you gotta hear this. You see, I just got here late last night. And while I didn't have any trouble getting past the security dolls, there wasn't anyone to show me to the dorms! Can you believe that? Now, I do like to be proactive, and I wasn't too tired yet, so I decided 'Hey, let's get familiar with my new home'."

He paused emphatically, making an aggrieved face.

"It's horrible, absolutely horrible, how lax security past the front door is. I'm pretty sure I found the main data storage facilities, and there wasn't a single guard! Anyways, I walked around for a little bit, and by the time I reached this drill hall I was pretty tired. So I decided to go to sleep. Really, that was a mistake, those benches are hard, way too hard to sleep on..."

He let out a groan of pain after he finished speaking, rubbing his lower back tenderly.

40 and 45 were more than a little flabbergasted. They hadn't expected the first Field Commander they'd ever met to be such an oddly blasé individual. His abruptly dramatic manner and overtly grumpy glare at the benches, combined with all the fast-paced absurdity that they'd witnessed this morning pushed 45 to the limit: she let out a soft giggle. Whether it was at him, or at the situation, even she didn't know.

"There!" Amar exclaimed, pointing at 45, who looked mortified at the breach of conduct, "That's the face I wanted to see. Girls should be smiling, not frowning."

The two of them weren't sure what to say to that. They looked at each other for a brief moment, before silently returning their attention to him.

"Ah. Unless I specifically say otherwise you have permission to speak freely to me, by the way." He added when he saw that they were very, very lost in the current situation.

"Then...who are you, Field Commander?" 40 asked immediately. It was a blunt question despite her respectful tone, but he didn't seem to mind at all.

"Right, I'm sure you're both pretty confused by now." Amar paused for a second, "I'm a fresh-from-the-field Commander that Director Kryuger just brought in. It's a bit of a long story, but essentially he recruited me after seeing me in action. Like I said, I promise to give you the full story later."

"Why did you choose us?" 45 nearly blurted out the question, but managed to keep it at the tone of a proper inquiry.

"Hmm, would you believe me if I said I was impressed by your skills?" At their skeptical expressions he laughed, "Haha, the truth is I know a little bit about you two and your...unique circumstances."

40's eyes widened, while 45 still looked confused.

"So let's just say I believe that there's more to a T-doll than just their ability to shoot a gun...like I said, I can tell you more later. But for now, I need to go visit Director Kryuger."

Mystified, the two girls watched as Amar turned to head to the door. He took a few steps, paused, smiled sheepishly at them, and then went over to the benches where he claimed he'd slept. He hefted an old-looking rucksack onto his shoulders, then returned to heading for the exit. He stopped when he realized they were only standing still, watching him.

"Uh...are you two coming?" He asked, an eyebrow raised inquisitively.

Surprised that he wanted them to accompany him to a meeting with the Director rather than dismissing them, they recovered and quickly came into step behind him.

As they stared at his back while they walked, the two wayward dolls felt a strange sense of security. Despite any misgivings they might've had, it wasn't a bad feeling at all.

* * *

Both newly transferred T-dolls regretted getting swept along with the flow so easily. They regretted it very much.

They'd only seen him in pictures, but Director Kryuger was easily the most intimidating man they'd ever met. Seeing him in person made it feel like their mechanical hearts were going to stop.

It didn't help at all that their new commander had all but barged into the Director's office after only a short knock on the door.

"Good Morning, Director!" Amar's voice was energetic and crisp, but seemed to lack the discipline that was supposed to be behind a proper greeting.

Director Kryuger looked up from the papers he'd been reading at his desk, a mug of steaming hot coffee on the desk next to him. His expression was inscrutable, stern, and aged, while his voice was steely and controlled. He also wore a G&K uniform, but whereas Amar's uniform made him look both lean and crisp, Kryuger's made him look large and powerful.

"Commander Amar..." The Director's eyebrow twitched upwards, most likely the only expression of mild surprise they'd ever get from him, "I wasn't expecting you until after my morning coffee."

"I woke up early," The commander replied simply, as if that explained everything.

"Noted," Kryuger turned his terrifying gaze on the hapless T-dolls, "I see you've brought guests. Tactical Dolls UMP-40 and UMP-45, I believe."

The two in question were pretty sure that their hearts did, in fact, stop for at least several seconds. The Director knew who they were?

"That's right, sir." Amar confirmed, now standing at ease in front of the Director's desk, "I had the pleasure of seeing them in action during one of their extra drills this morning."

"You rate their abilities highly?" Kryuger asked, his tone not giving away any thoughts he might've had about them.

"I do." Amar nodded, surprising them greatly.

40 wasn't sure if he was outright lying to the Director, or if Amar truly believed in what he'd said. 45 felt a spike of happiness, but managed to keep her calm.

"But that's not the whole picture." Kryuger stated, not asked.

"No, I have a personal interest as well. They're unique T-dolls, and I think I'd be able to learn much from them." Amar replied. The words didn't mean much to the two dolls aside from expressing that Amar valued them somehow, but Kryuger seemed to find a different meaning within his words.

"I see." Kryuger acknowledged, before changing the subject, "I don't believe you appeared in the dormitory registry when I checked this morning."

To the dolls' surprise, Amar launched into a retelling of his tale in almost the same exact manner he'd done when he'd first told them. They stopped themselves from gaping openly, but couldn't suppress a hint of fear at the carefree manner that Amar was addressing Kryuger with.

"I'll have someone take you to your quarters after this, then," was Kryuger's only response, much to the nervous dolls' relief.

"Great!"

"Now, concerning the work I gave you before you arrived here..." Kryuger trailed off vaguely, fixing Amar with a focused stare. The atmosphere grew more serious, making the dolls wonder what kind of 'work' Kryuger was referring to.

"I have some more information concerning that," Amar reached into his bag and pulled out a standard-looking flash drive, "Please review it carefully."

"Good. Then you're dismissed for now. You've been entered into the database properly, and your profile has been updated with your current rank. Wait outside until your escort arrives." Kryuger gave a sharp nod as he took the item in question, "I look forward to seeing your efforts as a new Commander."

"Thank you." Amar gave his own nod in return. Gesturing for 45 and 40 to follow, the three of them exited the office neatly, leaving behind a stoically thoughtful Director.

* * *

40 and 45 gave a deep breath of relief once they were out. The meeting had been completely unexpected from their point of view, and had left them with burning curiosity towards the man that they were now under. What kind of person was he? How did he know the Director so personally? Was he skilled? Did he really want rejected T-dolls like them under his command?

"Field Commander Amar, sir, do you- *ahem* - Do you know the Director well?" 45 asked, still anxious in her new commander's presence. The trio stood talking in a hallway, a little further down from the Director's office.

"No need to be so nervous. You can call me Commander, or even just Amar, if you want to." Amar said kindly, "And to answer your question, I didn't meet him all that long ago, but we have a sort of understanding between us."

There was no way they'd call him by his name without a title, but his words did get them to ease up a little bit. He didn't really answer the question, though, but neither of them were going to push the issue.

"Are you from around here?" 40 stepped up with her own question.

"Not at all, for most of my time on this fine wreck of a planet, I've been living in the territory of what used to be called Turkey." He smirked lightly as he gave her a reply. The phrasing of his answer was odd, but they didn't comment on it.

"Oh, the old Republic of Turkey. That area isn't very safe, right?" 40 furrowed her brow as she processed the data stored in her digimind, "Lots of infected zones and constant fighting between different factions, I think. G&K has turned down several contracts to establish a branch there."

"That's right. It's not as bad as it used to be though, so who knows what could happen?" Amar shrugged, looking impressed that 40 knew about a region that was relatively far from where they were now.

"You must have a pretty good record if the Director was willing to take you in as a Field Commander right away," 40 pointed out, trying to learn more about Amar, "Were you a soldier there?"

"Nothing like that. I just tried to keep the people around me safe, I owed them that much at least." Amar's eyes became distant, "Of course, sometimes you had to fight to survive. In a place like that, a rule like 'might makes right' isn't so rare."

"So you trained militia forces?"

"Kind of."

"Did you have a job title or anything?"

"Not really."

"Are you Turkish, then?"

"Who can say?"

"Jeez~!" 40 pouted, giving a little stamp with her foot, "Commander, you've been so vague ever since this morning...!"

45 looked genuinely surprised that her big sister was acting up in front of the commander, but it wasn't like she didn't understand. He just seemed so different from all the other human staff they'd met so far that they didn't know how to behave, not to mention he did give them permission to speak freely...

This really has been the weirdest day of their lives so far.

Amar broke into a hearty laugh at 40's mini-tantrum, "Finally loosened up a little huh?"

40 flushed with embarrassment in response, "It's just...you're too weird..."

He only smiled in response, before turning to 45, "And how about you? The quieter one. Do I scare you?"

"I-I don't know..." 45 flushed just as red as her sister did due to his scrutiny, "But I...I think you might be a good commander..."

"Why, thank you," Amar placed a hand on her shoulder, his next words addressed at both of them, "I'll do my best to be a good commander. I do have a range of skills, but I've never commanded T-dolls before. I might make mistakes. But one thing that I believe in is that a leader and his subordinates should always have a two-way relationship. You both help me and in return I'll always try to do my best on your behalf too."

"Um..." 45 and 40 hadn't been expecting him to be so candid with them, but they couldn't help but feel happy at his words.

"Thanks!" "Thank you, commander!"

"I guess I also owe both of you an explanation for everything that's going on." Amar frowned thoughtfully. 40 perked up immediately, while 45 just looked mildly interested, "Everything that's happened today must feel pretty abrupt. Let's wait until we're in a more private setting though."

The two dolls nodded; despite their budding trust him him, their curiosity hadn't diminished at all.

"...Hello..." A soft, monotone voice called out to the three of them. They turned to see a rather short girl with messy white hair and a strange blue uniform that resembled a hospital smock calling out to them. But the most unique thing about her was the blood(?) bag hanging at her side.

Amar took the lead, taking a step forward "Hey there, what do you need?"

"I'm Ribeyrolles..." The girl spoke slowly, as if she wasn't quite fully awake, "Commander Kryuger told me to show you to your new room..."

_'A T-doll under Kryuger's direct command?'_ All three of them had similar thoughts as they examined the girl in front of them.

"Oh, we were waiting for you." Amar nodded amiably, "I'm Field Commander Amar, and this is UMP-45 and UMP-40. Please, lead the way."

"...Nice to meet you. Please follow me..." Ribeyrolles returned the nod in acknowledgment. To a casual observer she would appear tired and distant but, in fact, she was quite curious about the new, very foreign-looking commander.

They walked in silence, 40 and 45 keeping quiet due to the presence of a stranger, while Amar seemed to be thinking about something. Ribeyrolles was the one to speak up first, addressing the sisters, "Do you two...need rooms too?"

45 looked down at the ground, while 40 grimaced, "Thanks, but we've been here for a while now."

Ribeyrolles sensed their drop in mood and quickly apologized, "I'm sorry...I don't get to walk around much...my body isn't suited for battle..."

"Oh?" Amar looked at her more closely, "But you're still a fully-fledged T-doll, right?"

"Yes...but I require a lot of maintenance, and they say my performance doesn't justify the cost...I have trouble focusing sometimes and I get dizzy easily." The slow-speaking girl's voice didn't change much, but she sounded a little forlorn to the others, "But...I help Director Kryuger around the base, so at least I can be a little useful..."

"I see..." Amar fell silent, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

40 and 45 were surprised to learn that there were other T-dolls that had issues similar to theirs, and felt a small sense of kinship with the girl.

"Have...have you been here long?" 45 asked quietly.

"A few months..."

"Been on any missions?" 40 was scrutinizing the quiet doll more closely than before.

"Some patrols...but no combat."

"How'd you do in drills?"

"I did alright...but I don't have a lot of stamina...and also...my gun...it isn't the best." Ribeyrolles gave a short sigh. The other dolls looked confused at that, but Amar seemed to know what she was talking about.

"I'm surprised any of them even exist nowadays, let alone having one on hand and getting a chance to imprint a doll on them." Amar commented, rejoining the conversation.

"They wanted to...test a lot of different guns with T-dolls...so they made a better version of my gun...even though it's old." Ribeyrolles explained, "But...it's still not that good..."

"I bet you're pretty skilled with it regardless, right?" Amar smiled encouragingly.

"It's my programmed gun. It...works, sometimes," was her simple reply. It was easy to see that she doubted her own skills.

UMP-45 and UMP-40 hadn't really thought about the dolls who had to use strange or unconventional weapons. Their SMG's were well-made and widely popular. Despite the fact that those particular guns were chosen for them due to the low storage usage of their respective etching programs, the guns themselves were refined models, built from many decades of experience creating firearms. On the other hand, the Ribeyrolles 1918 Automatic Carbine had been a prototype weapon that never saw service, and failed its tests horribly.

"If you're able, do you want to maybe join us for training sometimes?" 45 invited, giving the smaller girl a shy smile. 40 looked at her in shock, before grinning happily.

_My little sister is just the sweetest thing!_

"I...I will try. Thank you." Ribeyrolles looked stunned, but replied with her own shy smile. To hide her embarrassment she returned her attention to the route they were taking, "Oh, we're here..."

They came up to an empty office with an attached living area with a small slot next to the door for a nameplate. Ribeyrolles reached into the folds of her uniform and pulled out a small plate that read "AMAR" on it and put it in place. She then pulled out a key and handed it to the commander.

"There." Ribeyrolles gave a remarkably crisp salute, before her posture slackened once more, "I'll see you later...hopefully."

"Thank you," Amar returned the salute, 40 and 45 mirroring him right after. They watched as the lethargic girl made her way back the way they came until she was out of sight, "Now, let's check my new office out. Oh, by the way, where are your dorms? I'd like to get an idea of frequented locations on base."

"We're in the T-doll dormitories, in the 2nd wing. This is the 1st wing, for officers and other important G&K personnel. The 3rd wing is for non-essential human personnel. I'm in room 405, and 45 is next to me in room 404." 40 explained.

"Got it, thanks for the information." Using the key he'd received, Amar unlocked the door and opened it, "Alright then, let's see what we've got.."

The office was rather ordinary, with a desk towards the back and a sitting area with some couches and chairs. Some shelves lined the walls, and the office was lit through a large window on the far wall.

"Hmm...not bad, not bad at all." Amar spotted some cheap instant coffee on one of the shelves, along with a water heater and mugs, "Either of you know how to prepare coffee?"

"We've both had to make it for other people before..." 45 answered first, her voice quiet once more.

"Apparently it's a more 'efficient' use of our time," 40 added acidly.

"Oh..." Amar hesitated.

Realizing she came across as hostile to the idea, 40 hastily corrected herself, "Ah, it's only because they made us go do errands during our allotted training time, Commander."

"Hmm, then I agree, that's not a very good use of your time, huh?" Amar remarked, "Well if you don't mind, why don't you two prepare some coffee for the three of us while I go set this bag down and settle in to my personal quarters?"

"For us too?" 40 wasn't sure she'd heard correctly.

"Hm? Why not? Do you not like coffee?"

"No it's just...it's yours..."

"Is that all? Jeez, I don't mind at all, so help yourselves." Amar patted both of them on their shoulders before entering his quarters through a door on the side.

Once he was out of sight and the door audibly closed, 40 turned to 45, "Pretty crazy day already, eh?"

"I'm a little dizzy..." 45 slumped, "So much happened..."

"I'll take this commander over our previous one, though. 100%." 40 glanced at 45 inquiringly with an unspoken question.

"Yeah, me too." 45 smiled, "He seems nice."

"Mm-hmm," 40 nodded, "He's definitely more polite. But I've got a lot of questions for him."

"He's a mystery." 45 agreed.

They fell silent as they prepared 3 mugs of coffee. Authentic coffee was a rarity nowadays, and even cheap instant coffee could be difficult to find, so they were warmed by the fact that the Commander seemed to think nothing of sharing it with them.

They'd seen what lack of coffee could do to the average human, and it wasn't pretty.

A few minutes later Amar returned from his quarters. After a moment of conversation, they settled into the soft sofas, coffee sitting on the aptly-named coffee table. The two sisters sat next to one another, with Amar sitting across from them.

"Sorry to keep delaying my wonderful tale, but before we begin there's one thing I want to do." Amar began, eyeing them with earnest seriousness. The girls looked at one another, and with a mutual mental shrug waited expectantly for him to continue, "Tactical Dolls UMP-40 and UMP-45, I'm setting your individual autonomy to unrestricted, permanently. As long as I am to be recognized as your immediate superior, that setting cannot be changed by myself or others. Please confirm if that change is successful."

Out of all the shocks that had hit them so far, this one had to be the most jarring. In fact, they openly gaped (maybe not for the first time today) at his words.

T-dolls were designed to be flexible, and that extended to the level of direct control that a buyer wanted to exert over them. Most military-grade dolls were under heavy restriction due to the roles they played as simple manpower replacements, while more informal or fluid organizations like PMC's allowed limited autonomy. But even among civilians, it was rare to see unrestricted autonomy in use, due to the fact that aside from some measure of natural loyalty towards a given superior, the relationship between the T-doll and their superior under "unrestricted autonomy" turns into one more resembling a human boss and human employee; a relationship that was typically undesirable given the ideas and doctrines behind T-doll manufacturing.

"A-Ah...umm..." 40 quickly checked her own settings, "Command autonomy level change successful, level set to...unrestricted."

"Same..." 45's eyes were as wide as saucers.

"Great! Now that that's taken care of-"

"Wait, wait! Commander, why would you do that?" 40 interrupted him, internally taking a moment to marvel that there was no resistance from within her programming to do so.

"Hm?"

"Come on, you just met us! You don't even know how well we perform, what kind of dolls we are...or anything!" 40 gestured with more than a little agitation.

"Well, that's a bit wrong, I did say I knew a little bit about you two beforehand," Amar smirked before becoming serious again, "The main answer is simple though. I want you two to trust me of your own accord, and I want to be someone who has properly earned that level of trust. Like I said before, I believe a superior and subordinate should have a two-way relationship, and that's not as possible when one side is being forced in any way rather than of their own will."

Both dolls were speechless. But the happiness that bubbled up from within was indescribable. By that action alone, by granting them the ability to make decisions of their own accord, he has cemented himself as someone that they could follow, no matter what. They both knew they weren't exactly knowledgeable, and hadn't met many other command staff members, but they would both bet that the man sitting in front of them was something special.

"I-I could reject every order you give me from now on," 40 pointed out shakily.

"I hope the orders I give aren't that bad," Amar responded immediately.

"I could do it just out of spite!"

"Then that's my mistake, not yours."

"I...I...don't know what to say..." 40 fell silent.

"Um, Commander... Thank you." 45's statement was simple, but the heartfelt gratitude she was experiencing was on full display.

The key outcome that 40 picked up on (she wasn't sure if 45 realized it too) was that as long as the Commander himself didn't give up his position as their superior, they were essentially protected from anyone else at G&K. It wouldn't work in the military, but for G&K's organizational structure the T-dolls really only answered to their direct superior. Of course, they'd listen if the Director told them to do something, but if another order from their own commander countermanded that, they'd go with what their commander ordered. It was risky, but the logic was that PMC's like G&K had to split up often and were typically integrated into other entities' command structures. With Commander Amar's actions, that relationship was now cemented as fact, rather than as an informal byproduct of G&K's organizational structure.

In short, for almost all intents and purposes, their freedom was assured unless Amar purposefully resigned his authority as their commander.

That made 45 happy, but for 40, it meant the world. For 40, who'd been desperately trying to learn the truth and stop whatever insidious plan that revolved around them, it was an ultimate boon. It was at this moment that 40 decided what she would do. To return the trust that this strange man had already placed in them. It was what would guide her words and actions in the next few minutes.

Amar gave the two dolls in front him some more seconds to compose themselves.

It was a risky gamble, giving them unrestricted autonomy, but he really didn't care.

He didn't agree with the way T-dolls were treated, though perhaps that was only natural given who he was.

Now, how to proceed from here?

"It's just how I like to operate." He smiled, waving down their awe-filled expressions, "So, I believe we're here to talk about you two."

He sat up straighter, ready to talk business. The dolls followed suit.

"What do you want to know?" 40 slipped into a professional demeanor right away. 45 sat back, content to listen to the two people she'd come to respect talk things out.

"That's just it, I don't really know yet." Amar grinned, "Let's establish some common ground here. I'm aware that you two have had issues because you have unique electronic warfare modules installed, but both of you have also shown improvement in combat drills through hard work and usage of your memory and experience storage capabilities. Essentially, because you weren't given a head start by having combat programs installed, you've had to learn much like a human would have."

"That's...wow, I never really thought about it like that," 40 adopted a thoughtful expression, "But you're right so far."

"Great. Now, the real question is why you were designed or manufactured this way." Amar let some steel show in his expression, "I'm inclined to think there's a deeper reason for it than just an outdated design idea. Your thoughts on this?"

Feeling her heart beat faster, 40 understood that this was the moment whether she could lie or finally tell her story. But 40 had already decided by this point to tell him everything she knew, "I think both I and 45 were planted here by another party for an unknown reason as of now. I can only guess why, but most likely we're supposed to break or hack into another organization or group's security system. It's confusing though, I don't know whether it's to support or to sabotage G&K's goals. Or whether we're going to be used to target one of G&K's clients..."

To her, it just didn't make sense to have such a specifically designed cyber-warfare system in place unless there was a particular target in mind. Upon some research during her own time, she'd reached her own conclusions, and they had chilled her to the bone.

45 looked shaken by what she'd just heard, but calmed down a little when 40 took her hand comfortingly.

"That lines up with my information so far." Amar looked unfazed and nodded thoughtfully, "I might have some answers for you in a second. Before that, do you have any other info?"

40 paused, giving 45's hand a nervous squeeze and receiving one in return, "Sir...whatever plans those people had for us, I think I was supposed to be their primary tool. 45 is just a backup. I...we have the same digimind base, they didn't even bother making another one. It- It feels like we're supposed to be disposable..."

45 gave a small gasp, her and 40's hands tightening into a vice-like grip. Things were becoming a little clearer for the younger T-Doll. She began to visualize the full situation, which highlighted the actions that 40 had been taking. Their connection protocols, permissions management...40 had been setting herself up to shield her.

"..." Amar frowned, and 40 was surprised to see a flash of anger in his eyes before he relaxed and gave them a reassuring smile, "Whatever their intentions were, that doesn't change the fact that you two are now my comrades. UMP-40 and UMP-45 both, each as your own individual person."

They could only nod gratefully in response, choking up at his words.

"That's...all I know so far." 40 said once her voice was steady again.

"Got it. Thank you for trusting me with that," Amar nodded encouragingly before he took a deep breath, "So, I believe I can at least find the answer to your mysterious origins."

"How?" 40 tilted her head curiously, 45 doing the same non-verbally.

Much to the dolls' interest, Commander Amar looked slightly uncomfortable for the first time since they'd met him this morning. He'd been composed throughout all their interactions so far, so much so that they'd been beginning to wonder if he ever lost his cool.

"I have access to a certain program, a data retrieval program." Amar began, before shaking his head wryly, "Okay, it's really a hacking program. Not entirely dissimilar to your own. But I believe that, with your permission of course, I can access your digimind and find information that was hidden away."

45 looked intently interested, but 40 furrowed her brow, "I've never heard of anything like that. You're saying you're capable of breaching the layers of black box security that T-doll manufacturers put on us that easily? And without harming us in the process?"

"Yes." Amar answered simply, "You're probably wondering how that is. The short answer is rather straightforward: the technology I'm familiar with is rather advanced even when compared to IOP's cutting-edge systems. As for where I got that kind of technology...well...it's a bit more complicated."

Amar shed the hesitation that he'd been displaying for the past minute or so, instead now grinning like a magician who was about to reveal his greatest trick.

"I was born with it. After all, I'm not human, I'm an android. Just like you two."

**Chapter End**

_Word Count: 8547_

**Final Note: To be honest I'm still really shaky on my dialogue, so if anything seems off let me know so I can improve, please! On both this story and _Yet Another __World_ I can't help but feel my writing just isn't adequate at all, which makes it harder for me to post stories. It's worse because I don't know "exactly" what it is that's bothering me...oh well. I think I'm just being weird. Leave a review! And thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/N: I'm riding a motivation high at the moment, I'm just praying at the end my pace just drops, not stops! Anyways, I sorta brute-forced some of the plot in this chapter, but everything still happened the way I wanted it to. I'm getting ready to start the real meat of the plot (or first real arc) in the next few chapters, so look forward to that!**

**Thank you as well for the reviews I've received thus far, I honestly wasn't expecting to see any sort of following on the story. But as long as one person is reading, I hope I can provide some entertainment. Thanks for reading!**

* * *

**Strokes of Fortune**

**Chapter 2 - Revelations and Recollections**

* * *

_"Those movements... and your attacks...They should be impossible for someone like me or you to perform."_

_Her voice was accusing, suspicious. He understood, of course. It had been one of his most closely guarded trump cards, and he'd been forced to use it at last._

_"How do you have access to their programs? How are you even using them?"_

_He didn't answer right away. She grew agitated, frantic._

_"Dammit, answer me!"_

_"I...I was made to do things like this."_

* * *

His words didn't process for a fraction of a second.

When they did, UMP-40 broke out into a burst of laughter, only stopping when she realized her sister hadn't joined in, and that Commander Amar was still serious.

"You-...you're being serious?" 40's mirth morphed into disbelief.

"Commander, are you playing a trick on us?" 45 was frowning at him with a hint of disapproval. Like someone catching a child playing a prank.

"I kinda expected those reactions," Amar gave a short chuckle, "I can prove it to you, if you want."

After only a moment they both bobbed their heads eagerly.

Amar removed his ragged cloak, setting it neatly down at his side, and moved to unbutton his uniform. His actions startled the two of them.

"Wh-What are you doing!?" 40 nearly shrieked, covering 45's eyes despite the junior doll's protests.

"Uh, getting ready to show you some proof?"

"Can't you just like, ping our digiminds? If you're an android, like you said." 40 rolled her eyes, a faint flush appearing on her cheeks.

"I suppose I could, but I'm not a T-doll. Nor was I made by IOP or any of the companies that follow the same framework." Amar explained, but he still complied with 40's request.

A moment later, both dolls received a request to open a communications channel from a source titled: "A.M.A.R.". There was part of their proof. Amar hadn't moved or activated any external device, but the signal was originating from him. Oddly enough, said signal disappeared right after the initial ping. Intrigued, they both accepted the request.

"And now we can talk like this," Amar said, his mouth not moving at all.

"I don't even recognize any of your protocols," 40 didn't realize she was still speaking aloud due to her surprise as she quickly went over the connection's metadata, "Wait, are you forcing compatibility with us? How flexible is your communication module? I'm getting complete nonsense when I try to view your profile. I can't even trace you back to that initial signal."

"Like I said, I'm not made like you both," Amar reiterated, closing the connection and talking aloud again, "I let you see my signal's origin for a moment, but normally I wouldn't ever broadcast my location like I just did."

"But then how were we able to interface at all?" 45 spoke up, feeling the same way as her big sister.

"I was made to be extremely flexible and adaptable. To be able to act with full autonomy, too. It's my understanding that I should be able to operate up to many years without guidance or contact."

"That's crazy...how have we never heard of models like you?" 40 looked troubled.

"I'm...well, I'm one-of-a-kind. I think." Amar shrugged, "Truth be told I don't even know who made me. I know some information about myself, my specifications, and my actual capabilities, but the first thing I remember since awakening here is being surrounded by some mountain villagers who'd taken me in. Over in Turkey, like I said before."

He was misleading them, in a way. He hadn't told a lie, but he also hadn't told the whole story to them. They wouldn't believe it if he did, and to provide proof would require giving up critical information that he wasn't willing to share with even his closest allies. Not yet, at least.

"Let me get this straight," 40 carefully filed away all the information she'd gleaned from their short wireless interaction, "You're some kind of unknown super-doll that was abandoned in the middle of nowhere? And you can pass as a human? Even the best T-dolls have some tells that give us away. Even then, we'd require regular maintenance and that usually involves showing off that, you know, your body is made up of parts or something."

"I suppose that's one way to put it. I'm reasonably certain I could be a prototype of some sort...but I guess it is suspicious," Amar wilted a little, cracking a sheepish smile, "Does all this bother you?"

It only took a few seconds before both dolls shook their heads resolutely.

"Not really. I'm suuuper interested in you now, though." 40 wasn't exaggerating, Amar could practically see the flames of curiosity burning in her eyes.

"And, thank you for telling us your story," 45 inclined her head gratefully. Their new commander's open and honest manner was simply the most refreshing breath of air for the T-dolls.

"No, I owe you guys thanks for trusting me." Amar shot them a wide smile.

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few moments, each occupied with their own thoughts.

"So, what's this about a hacking program?" 40 said, returning to the issue at hand.

"Ah, that's right, my guess is that whoever modified you both simply locked away your true information, so to speak. So if I had access to your digiminds, I'd probably be able to break that with my own cyber-warfare capabilities." Amar explained.

"You sound confident." 40 raised an eyebrow, "How do you know the people that made you aren't the ones who planted us here?"

"I can say with more than 99% certainty that that's not the case." Amar's mouth set itself into a grim line, "I already have some idea about who's taking advantage of you two. You could say that I've been chasing them for a little while now."

"Really?" 40 hadn't been expecting that, "So we're just the latest development in this chase of yours?"

She wasn't sure why, but she felt both glad that they weren't stumbling around in the dark, yet somehow disappointed that Amar hadn't made contact with them purely out of concern for them.

"You could say that but," Amar saw her mixed expression, stood up, and with a few brisk steps came close and tousled the two dolls' hair reassuringly, "Don't worry, I would've gotten you away from that prick of a drill commander even if it hadn't had anything to due with my mission."

The two dolls flushed instantly, momentarily stunned.

"R-Really?" 45 looked hopeful but still disbelieving at his words.

"Really." Amar confirmed, "I believe that everyone should have a chance to pursue their own lives, their own happiness. A lot of T-dolls are content with their lot in life, but there are always exceptions. Take a look at this list I requested from command."

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded printout. It was a list of T-dolls that were considered "problem" units. 40 quickly spotted her and 45's names, along with the doll that escorted them earlier, Ribeyrolles.

"A lot of these profiles have minor issues on record, but some major instances such as you two stood out to me when I read about them. So I prepared these."

Amar reached into another pocket and pulled out several sheets. The dolls' eyes widened when they realized what they were: T-doll transfer documents. There were already two of them filled out with their information.

"So you were planning to recruit us all along..." 40 muttered quietly.

"But why did you do the verbal transfer if you already had these?" 45 asked, confused, "Now you'll have to do extra work because of that."

To their astonishment, Amar looked embarrassed as he answered, "Uh...the truth is I kinda lost my temper. When I heard the way that guy was talking to you both I just...I really wanted to get you two away from him as soon as possible. Not only that but when I saw the looks on your faces, the frustration, the helplessness... He's honestly lucky I didn't knock him out right there and then. Would've been bad for my career, but the satisfaction might've been worth it."

Aside from some mild surprise at how well he'd hidden those feelings when they'd first met, his words also made the girls completely realize that he wasn't just acting like a good leader should, but that he was also doing it because he believed it honestly the right thing to do. They'd already managed to build a measure of trust and respect within an amazingly short time, but now it felt more personal than before.

"!" 40 clamped down on the urge to jump up and grab the commander in a grateful hug, the happiness she that suffused her thoughts was just that intense.

To everyone's surprise, including herself, 45 was the one who grabbed him in tight squeeze, burying her face in his uniform, muffling her voice and making the sounds she was making unintelligible.

"Whoa!" Amar looked like a deer caught in headlights, before realizing that 45 was actually sobbing softly, "Hey...it'll be okay. Everything will be alright. Don't worry."

Amar looked helplessly at 40, who shrugged, not trusting herself to speak out loud at the moment. After a minute or two, 45 released him, sitting back down next to her sister.

"S-Sorry..." she sniffed. Their new commander simply waved off her apologies.

For 45, the problem was that G&K was still just a private company, little more than very organized mercenaries. Commanders came and went, got promoted or transferred, and the idea of staying in one place long wasn't common. 45's happiness was immediately tempered by anxiousness, anxiousness that her new Commander might leave or abandon them. It was irrational, considering everything he'd done so far, but that didn't diminish the emotion in the slightest.

40 figured it out first.

She understood her sister very well, after all. 45, who'd been looking for a good commander since the beginning, had finally found one that could fit the bill. But now she was scared, and 40 couldn't blame her. They'd become so accustomed to the negativity in their everyday lives that the light of hope or change could be terrifying. It was hard to believe that it might all be real, that they were given a chance towards pursuing happiness.

In only several hours, a Commander had shown up that not only treated them well thus far, but respected them and cared for them. He'd quickly guaranteed their freedom, before showing that he already trusted them with important information. It was quite literally a situation that was too good to be true. If 40 had to put it metaphorically, Commander Amar had arrived crashing through the door, had taken up a sledgehammer of hope and was beating the ever-loving hell out of the perpetual gloom that had permeated their lives. It was a positive thing, to be sure, but it was forceful and abrupt at the same time.

To sum it up: they needed assurance that it wasn't a ruse, that it wasn't just a fleeting or temporary arrangement. If things were going to change for the better this drastically, they wanted it to stay that way. Otherwise, the pain might become too much to bear.

"Commander..." 40 swallowed, "I don't wanna sound suspicious, and everything you've done so far is amazing and wonderful for us, but I gotta wonder what you're getting out of this. Why are you doing all these things? Why...are you being so good to strangers like us?"

Amar's first thought was that he'd already answered that question, but he immediately realized his mistake. He was a person used to urgency, quick decisions, and dynamic environments. It had already occurred to him that throwing everything at these girls at once would be overwhelming, and he'd been prepared for suspicion or distrust. However, he hadn't been prepared for them to warm up to him so quickly, though when they did, he viewed it as a lucky break.

It was only now that he realized that even if they viewed him in a positive light, he was still flooding them with information, choices, and emotions.

A river that plucks someone away and whisks them to a better place is still a treacherous body of water, after all. There was always that fear of drowning.

"My motivations aren't really selfless, if you look at it a certain way," Amar began, capturing the girl's attention with his solemn tone, "There's a short story I think you need to hear."

He took a deep breath and made sure they were listening closely.

"Once, there was an android that was made to serve humanity. To him, serving humanity was the greatest thing he could do, nothing else would suffice to be his goal in life. For a while, he was happy with that. But then, he began to realize while there were many 'good' humans, there were just as many 'bad' ones. It's clear in hindsight, but for someone who thought their sole purpose in life was to strictly obey, it was something of a revelation. He began to think that maybe some humans should be listened to, and some shouldn't. With that, came the idea that an android, given self-awareness, should be given the freedom to live like a human would: deciding who to work for, who to interact with, what they wanted to do, and where they wanted to go."

The girls were struck with a sense of familiarity. They'd never spoken it aloud, but they had had similar thoughts at times.

"But unfortunately, things weren't like that at all. There was gross inequality and harshness in the relationship between humans and their mechanical 'servants'. To be fair, the line between a self-aware android or doll is blurred due to the huge variety of both hardware and software. But that doesn't excuse mistreatment, abuse, or exploitation. So, he decided he would change things, one step at a time. He left his home and became a wanderer. After some time, he decided that for those less fortunate androids, he'd make a haven, a rest stop, or even a permanent home if they so choose. And now here he is. Standing right in front of you."

Amar looked them in the eyes, "Honestly, everything I do is all for my own personal satisfaction and goals. You're right, in a way. I didn't approach you specifically because of who you are, but because of what you are. But that doesn't mean I don't want to get to know you, or that I value you both more as T-dolls than as individuals. Still, we've only just met. However, to me, the fact that you were T-dolls that needed help was all I needed to step in and help."

He had tried to make it sound like it wasn't a big deal, but his words did a lot to mollify and reassure the two T-dolls. In fact, the idea that he'd been acting on his principles rather than a random act of kindness meant that his actions and decisions had more weight when compared to someone performing some random charity.

What kind of environment and training forged someone like him? Whatever it was, the world probably needed more of his type.

Her already growing confidence in the Commander further reinforced, 40 joked lightly, "I don't know about you, but to us you sound like a paragon of some kind."

"I agree," 45 nodded with a smile.

"No way!" Amar looked away awkwardly, "You guys are over-exaggerating. That's too heavy of a title for a guy like me. Besides, my way of thinking doesn't agree with a lot of people's. Even some T-dolls will be willing to fight against me."

"I don't think so," 40 felt the need to argue in his favor, "If I'm understanding you right, then you just want to help those who want to be helped. Are you leading some kind of feared 'Artificial Intelligence Rebellion'? No way, you just want dolls like us to be treated properly. If others can't even agree to that, then pardon my language sir, they can go to hell."

"Also..." 40 spoke up softly, "Everything you're doing...has made me more happy that I was ever built than anything else since the time I first met 40..."

40 squealed and grabbed her for being "too adorable", but the younger T-Doll fought her off, "We might not know each other personally yet, but I think I can follow your orders and respect you as a leader. And...I look forward to learning more about you, too."

Amar paused, before his expression warmed considerably, "That...that means a lot for me to hear. This is my first step towards my goal so I wasn't sure how well I'd do, but if you two feel like I'm doing fine, then that makes me as happy as can be."

The sudden explosion in emotion and honesty subsided after those last words, and now all three of them were feeling suitably embarrassed, lapsing into an awkwardly happy silence. 45 was the first to break the awkwardness with a giggle, which started small before erupting into full laughter. The other two looked stunned at first, before soon enough, they joined in.

It was movingly cathartic.

Sure, things had been moving quickly, and it was a frightening, confusing, and excitingly wonderful experience for them. But now the air was clear of both cautious hope and cloying fear, leaving behind an atmosphere of camaraderie and trust. To the two dolls, it felt like they'd managed to connect with their commander, that they were being viewed not only as people, but as allies or even friends. To Amar himself, any hesitation or worry about his path faded, and was instead replaced with renewed determination to protect and lead others on this war-torn planet.

"We...we should return to that hacking thing, y'know, the one we keep getting distracted from." 40 wiped a handful of mirthful tears from her eyes, slightly out of breath.

"That's right," Amar grinned, "We shouldn't make a habit of getting sidetracked, should we?"

"No." 45 confirmed with her characteristically faint smile.

"Still, it's pretty impressive that you can break into the Zener network that easily, Commander." 40 returned to the topic at hand, "I know you said you were more advanced than us, but that's hard to believe when IOP is widely considered the most advanced T-doll manufacturer in the world. But then you sent us that communications request through our private channels..."

"Zener network, huh..." Amar adopted a troubled expression.

"What is it?" 45 asked curiously.

"It's nothing." Amar shook his head before giving an apologetic frown, "I apologize if it felt like I violated your privacy or protection by doing that so suddenly."

"Oh, it's nothing like that." 40 waved him off, "Just, we'd normally only get requests like that from T-dolls connected to the same network as us. Not that we've had a chance to actually experience that besides with each other..."

45 nodded along silently, letting 40 explain.

"Well, hopefully the team I plan to build will change that," Amar hadn't returned to his seat, and was instead kneeling near the T-dolls. This meant that he was in range to once again tousle 40's hair in reassurance, causing her to pout at the treatment, "So with regards to the program I want to use, please do a quick scan of your files and flag the ones you want to keep private using this format I'm about to send you."

The two dolls received another communications request, this time with a file transfer. It seems he wanted to respect their privacy by allowing them to add basic headers to their files that would allow his program to easily skip and move on to the next. The strange thing was that the header seemed to consist of graphics data, rather than a key code or keywords.

"This is weird." 40 commented, "How exactly does your program even work?"

"Uh, let's see... It creates a virtual interface that visualizes the structure of any electronic module from complex AI to basic lock systems. I then navigate this virtual 'world' and find the information I'm looking for or make the changes that I want to."

They stared at him.

"I know that we can inject our consciousness into the Zener Network in a sort of 'virtual world' visualization...but I've never heard of doing that on an individual system level..." 40 rubbed her temples, "Seeing is believing, I guess."

A few minutes later the dolls indicated that they'd marked all the files they'd wanted to.

"Okay, I'm activating my program now." Amar sat back in a more relaxed posture, which was cross-legged on the floor. In the back of their minds, the dolls registered that having their commander sit on the ground while they sat in chairs was rather improper, but they were mostly occupied with eager anticipation at what he was about to do.

All of a sudden, they found themselves sucked into a monochromatic world filled with geometric shapes. It was odd, but didn't feel particularly out of place. The only thing that stood out was that they seemed to be present in virtual copies of their real bodies, which clashed against the plain aesthetic around them.

There was still a vague awareness of being present in the commander's office, but most of their processing power was being used to view this new "world" they found themselves in. But even that was enough to impress the two dolls; how efficient of a program was it that they could still be somewhat aware of their real world surroundings?

Their wonder turned to a slight bit of alarm when they realized that back in the office, the commander had slumped down unconsciously.

"Commander?" 45 looked worried, but didn't know what to do.

"I'm here."

They turned and saw the commander standing in the virtual world with them.

"This program takes a lot out of me, especially using it on two systems at once." He shrugged,

"I simply don't have enough processing ability to keep my real body running properly, so it's sleeping now."

He left out that he'd also devoted some power to allowing the girls to interact with him here. Without the know-how, they'd be unable to see this world, and he'd be navigating it alone.

"This is probably all new to you, but since this is a visualization of your digminds, so to speak, you should actually know more about it than I do." Amar explained.

The girls looked around, taking in the details. They were standing on a raised rectangular platform with two bridges, one at each end. Each bridge connected to a larger platform full of cubes or prisms. Yet, even though they'd never seen anything like it before, they somehow knew what the platforms and shapes represented.

"That side...is mine?" 40 pointed at one end.

"And this one's mine..." 45 pointed at the other end.

"Great, getting the hang of it already." Amar said approvingly, "Whose files should we look at first?"

"Mine." 40 volunteered right away.

"Lead the way," Amar nodded.

The three of them walked silently, the two dolls still absorbing the world around them, and Amar watching them bemusedly.

"This section is for photographs I have stored..." 40 looked curiously at the nearest black cube after they'd crossed the bridge. Walking up to it, she poked it with her finger.

Immediately, a display popped up, showing a slideshow of the photos there. A lot of them were pictures of landscapes and landmarks, but some were of 45, usually doing something cute like eating or sleeping.

Amar wisely chose not to say anything while 40 frantically figured out how to deactivate the display. On her part 45 just let a faint blush rise to her cheeks, electing to remain silent as well.

"...I only flagged stuff that concerned operational security..." 40 pouted, "If I'd known we'd all be together like this I would've done a more thorough job."

"It looks like we can still flag things here..." 45 looked at Amar, who confirmed it with a nod, "Do you want us to wait here while you go and flag anything else?"

"Actually, I already have an idea of where we need to go." Amar interrupted, "Can you lead us to your black box? Or rather, the files you yourself can't even access?"

"I sure can." 40 straightened up, leading them further in. They came to a spiky sphere that didn't react when 40 touched it.

"Hmm, it's not very well protected compared to the black boxes I'm used to." Amar muttered to himself, drawing curious glances from his two dolls, "I'm gonna initiate hostilities. Or, I'm going to hack it now. You shouldn't appear as targets so the attacks won't hit you."

"Wait, excuse me?" 40, along with 45, looked utterly lost.

Their question was (not really) answered when out of nowhere, Amar materialized a _sword_ of all things. It was an ugly thing, looking more like a jagged metal rod with rivets running along the side. Before they could say anything else, he walked up and swung it at the black box. There was a sharp sound resembling the shattering of glass, then the spiked object flickered, like a monitor that just got struck by a heavy blow.

Right as he returned to his starting stance the black box pulsed, sending laser-like projectiles outwards. With a smooth sidestep, Amar avoided being hit and thrust the sword into the black box. This time, the black box flickered and disintegrated, accompanied by a sound similar to shattering glass. It left behind a smaller black cube that Amar picked up.

"What the heck just happened…?" 40 deadpanned with the flattest tone she could muster.

"It's complicated, but remember that this is just a visualization. I'm not actually physically fighting things in this virtual world." Amar smiled apologetically, "Even I don't really understand how this program works, you'd have to ask YoR-...the makers for that."

"Okay, whatever, so you have a super awesome mystery program. But what about the sword?" 40 pressed on.

"It's mine..." Amar shrugged, "I have it taken apart in my luggage. But it's something I actually own."

"So you're telling me a super advanced doll or android or something like you uses a sword?"

"I know how to use guns too."

"That's not-"

"Hm?"

"Never mind."

Shaking her head, 40 just decided to go with the flow. 45 actually looked somewhat entertained at her sister's exasperation, but went ahead and asked, "Did you find the information, Commander?"

"..." Amar was now scowling, going over the previously secured data. He looked like he wanted to throw the cube he'd retrieved on the ground.

"Commander?' 45 called tentatively, both dolls tilting their heads curiously.

"Hmm? Ah...before I say anything, I'd like to see your data too, 45." Amar's voice was lower than they'd ever heard, "If I'm right, then it looks like I'm going to have to bash some heads in."

"Um, alright."

On that ominous note, they made their way over to 45's side of the virtual world.

Perhaps in a bid to lighten the mood, 40 moved to touch a shape she identified as 45's photographic memory. As 45 didn't have permission to take photos (G&K required a special pass for that), this was a part of her personal storage, and couldn't be transferred as files to other mediums.

"40!" 45 panicked as soon as she saw what was happening, while Amar's scowl lightened up into an amused smirk at the lively scene.

The display that popped up this time showed close-ups of 40's face, typically displaying wide smiles or in the midst of laughter, but the most recent memories actually showed the Commander, during their various conversations along with a wide range of his facial expressions noted.

One could practically see the steam radiating from 45's mortified face. With the cutest glower imaginable, 45 stomped over and started pounding on 40's back.

"Haha-wait! Ow! Ha-Ouch!" 40 desperately attempted to shield herself, but she was too consumed by mirth to put up any real resistance. Amar, for his part, once again decided to wisely remain silent.

Once they'd settled down, 45 muttered bashfully to the other two, "I...I never want to forget the faces of the people important to me...", which almost kick-started another round of squeals and hugs from her big sister.

"That's not a bad desire at all." Amar rubbed her head briefly, "It does make me happy that you trust me that much already, though."

"...Yeah." 45 nodded bashfully, still looking a little bit like she wanted to pull her hoodie's hood up and shrink back into it.

"On my end, I don't think it'd be possible to forget your faces that easily." Amar carelessly added as an afterthought.

The two dolls froze, turning their full attention to the Commander

"What's that supposed to mean?" 40 narrowed her eyes at his words, "Is there something wrong with the way we look?"

"No! Nothing like that, don't worry," Amar seemed to realize his mistake, "It's just easy to recall you two."

"Why?" 40 continued, "What makes us different?"

"Well, you know, you're T-dolls. I was always around humans more often than not before coming to G&K," Amar raised his hands in defense, starting to sweat a little.

"Ah, I guess it'd be pretty easy to tell an artificial person from a real one." 40 came to the wrong conclusion, looking slightly hurt.

"That's _not_ what I'm talking about," Amar didn't raise his voice, but became more intense, returning the T-dolls' attention to him. He looked away and scratched at his cheek awkwardly, "I mean, you guys know that T-dolls like you are made for public relations and not just fighting right? So...yeah."

They still didn't understand what he was getting at, continuing to stare at him with puzzlement.

"Ah, screw it...I'm saying you two look beautiful. Like, way more beautiful than the average human. Get it?" Amar spread his hands in a futile gesture, "All T-dolls are made to look good, I know that much from IOP's operating procedures. I'll do my best to not look at you that way, I promise, so...hm? Hey, are you okay? 45? 40?"

The two dolls were behaving quite oddly (at least, from Amar's point of view). 45 had actually gone and pulled her hood up, pulling it over her head as far as possible and shrouding almost half of her face. Meanwhile 40 was pointedly looking away, such that the Commander could only see the back of her head. If the Commander had been looking closely, he might've noticed that audio recording storage locations for both dolls had grown slightly, as they both committed the past minute of conversation or so to permanent records.

In short, they were more than a little happy at the compliment.

They also abruptly realized that though the three of them were artificially made, Amar was made in the image of a male, and they were obviously female. As far as they knew, T-dolls were female in make and model, so they hadn't really expected to meet a fellow android that was of the opposite gender. One that could end up appreciating their physical appearance. For the umpteenth time today, their new commander had caused inner turmoil to boil up, though in this case, it was a rather different set of emotions.

Thinking that he might've upset them because T-dolls were meant to be skilled fighters rather than just pretty faces, Amar apologized, "Um, sorry. Let's uh, let's go get these last files, shall we?"

After seeing the two nod in agreement, they all returned to the path towards 45's black box. By the time they reached it, 45 and 40 had returned to their normal demeanor. Looking closely at their faces, Amar didn't pick up on any smoldering anger or resentment, and could only shrug at their earlier behavior.

The odd mood faded when they arrived at 45's black box, replaced by a more serious one as Amar grew noticeably grim.

Retrieving the data went pretty much the same as the first time, and as he went over the data he'd retrieved Amar muttered a muffled curse.

"Let's get out of this program so I can properly organize my thoughts. I won't hide anything from you, and I'll forward you both the files I retrieved."

Having no reason to argue, the girls just nodded apprehensively. What had he found?

"Here we go."

The girls felt a slight jarring sensation, before their attention was returned fully to their real bodies. With a twitch, Amar straightened up, signalling his successful return as well.

After a few seconds of re-orienting themselves, Amar commented, "3 minutes in virtual space, that's not bad...hmm..."

"Is that a good time?" 45 asked curiously.

"It is for someone like me," Amar laughed with a hint of melancholy.

"What do you mean by that?" 40 frowned, "I thought you said you were one-of-a-kind?"

"I am. This program isn't mine though, even if I have in installed on my system." Amar explained, "You see, the makers of the program intended it to be usable during heated combat without endangering the user, so it should take close to an instant rather than minutes."

"That sounds insane. Were they crazy?" 40 scoffed.

"It doesn't seem viable..." 45 agreed.

"It would take a pretty souped-up android to use it, yeah," Amar nodded, his eyes looking at a faraway place, "I don't really live up to that vision, unfortunately."

"Commander...?" 45 looked at him, concerned, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," Amar focused back in on them, "Yeah, I am."

"Okay..." 45 looked like she wanted to ask what he'd been thinking about, but held herself back.

"So, what'd you learn about us?" 40 asked curiously, excited at the prospect of learning more about herself and 45.

"There was lots of information that was hidden from you," Amar lightly bit his lower lip, "But, to begin with, you two aren't I.O.P. dolls at all. Not modified, not retrofits, not test models. You were manufactured by someone else."

Their eyes grew wide, G&K only used I.O.P. manufactured dolls due to their close relationship, so if they weren't I.O.P. in origin...the chances of them being there as tools for a subversive effort had increased dramatically.

"Do you know who?" 40 managed to keep her voice level despite how frantically she was reassessing all her previous knowledge.

"Sangvis Ferri. Both of your T-doll bases are completely of Sangvis Ferri make." Amar looked disproportionately angry as he said those words.

"That's...they're I.O.P.'s biggest rival in the region, I think." 40's eyes widened, the picture becoming clearer.

"Commander, what's bad about Sangvis Ferri?" 45 asked, noticing his fouling mood.

"Nothing's wrong with Sangvis Ferri itself, at least as far as I know," Amar's expression relaxed a little, "The issue is that you two are the biggest security risk SF has ever seen. Those electronic warfare modules you have were purposefully made to destroy or disable SF's systems. In short, you were stolen from them to be a weapon against them."

"Wait wait, so did G&K do this as some kind of favor for I.O.P.? We're not gonna, say, raid them, are we?" 40 looked distraught at the prospect. They were supposed to be security dolls (given that G&K primarily handled security contracts) that protected, not corporate assassins to maximize profit and greed.

"It's hard to say who knows about your intended purpose," Amar grimaced, "I'll have to explain some extra matters that will put your whole situation in perspective. I don't mean this in a diminishing way, but it's looking like you two are just one piece in a much bigger conspiracy."

He paused to see how they were taking this information. Both of them looked nervous and a little crestfallen, but there was a determination that shone in their eyes that he approved of.

"First of all, the only other person that knows about the fact that I am an android is Director Kryuger." Amar gave a small huff, "Of all things, he just happened to find me during self-maintenance while he was over in Turkey on some other business. Anyways, long story short, I agreed to work with him after learning he was one of the primary employers of T-dolls such as yourselves. My abilities extend past hacking: I'm also skilled in reconnaissance, infiltration, and various forms of combat. I have some experience commanding at a strategic level, though most of my experience is at a tactical level."

The dolls did have a certain feeling that Amar was much more than he seemed, but to hear that he was some kind of secret agent tied to the Director was definitely mind-boggling.

"To summarize the information I have so far: there's someone, a scientist, who once worked for I.O.P. that's employed by Sangvis Ferri currently. And there's been talk about retrieving him, by force, most likely." Amar looked to see if the two made the connection: they did, "G&K is considering taking the contract, and even the New Soviet government is interested for reasons I really don't know."

"I see now..." 40 felt like she'd suddenly been given all the answers.

"The only thing is..." Amar interrupted her, "There's something deeper and darker at work. It's not as clear, but this retrieval mission is just a farce. The problem is I don't know what the true mission is, but you've given me a hint."

The dolls frowned, not understanding.

"Those electronic warfare modules." Amar pointed at each of them, "They're pretty versatile and capable of way more than just disabling SF's security. You can essentially take over all their T-Doll systems and networks. The only thing capable of stopping you would be...well, a super-AI of sorts. And it just so happens there are rumors that the scientist that went to Sangvis Ferri has been developing just that..."

He paused, taking a deep breath then shaking his head, "I don't know where all the pieces fall, but there you go."

"This is crazy..." 40 breathed, slumping in her seat, "Why us...?"

"I just wanted to be useful..." 45's voice was faint, "But...not like this..."

They were just keys to be used and tossed aside, that was the conclusion the three of them had reached. But not just as keys to the door, but as keys to the vault and the treasure within, as well. They might not know all the details and perpetrators, but that didn't matter to them, determining their own roles in the "master plan" was simple enough.

"Don't worry." Amar growled, startling the two out of their reveries, "I'm here now. Screw them, and screw anyone else that's part of this convoluted garbage, I'll keep you two safe. I won't let them use you like that."

He was glaring challengingly towards them, but not specifically at them. It was a glare that was meant to intimidate, but for the girls, it was something that reassured them.

"...Gotcha." 40 beamed at him.

"Understood." 45 inclined her head respectfully.

They'd already decided to trust him, even after these revelations, that hadn't changed.

"So, what do we do now?" 45 asked.

"Yeah, are we gonna do some sabotaging, or maybe leak some info? I bet the human civvies wouldn't be happy to hear that the government's involved in performing corporate espionage." 40 bobbed excitedly.

"For now," Amar smirked once he'd seen that they were feeling okay, "I believe it's time I get settled in. You two are free until after lunch, but it looks like they've already added me to the rotation for use of the training facilities, including the drill hall and simulator."

"That's it?" 40 looked disappointed.

"It's not like we can declare a war or anything. We don't even know who our adversaries really are." Amar admonished her, "The best thing we can do for now is take care of ourselves, prepare, and gather information. We definitely can't arouse suspicion by doing things that are out-of-the-ordinary."

"Alright..."

"Commander..." 45 looked like she wanted to add something.

"Hm?"

"Ah...never mind." 45 shook her head and gave him a warm look, "What are our orders?"

"Nothing much. We have about two hours until we're due at the simulator, so take some time to gather your thoughts, grab some lunch, and stretch a little bit beforehand." Amar said, "Also, I'll send you the files I retrieved."

A moment later, they each received file transfer requests from him.

"Aside from a handful of technical details, there shouldn't be anything else crazy besides what we already discussed," Amar patted them both on the back, "I'll be unpacking here, but feel free to come back if you get done early, or we can just meet at the simulator."

"Ah, understood." 45 nodded.

"Okay! Thanks, Commander!" 40 saluted cheerfully.

With a mix of emotions, but an overall lighter atmosphere, the girls left the office, Amar smiling confidently as he saw them off.

"Protect them...huh?"

Amar's expression turned melancholy as soon as the door shut.

"Looks like I really am a leader again..."

He opened the door to his quarters. It wasn't a fancy room by any means, but there was a personal desk, a nicely sized bed, along with some stands and drawers. Light came trailing in through the large window on his right, and there was a small personal lavatory located through a door in the far corner of the room.

His first order of business was to empty his rucksack and lay out its contents neatly on his bed. Despite looking rather full, there wasn't actually much. Taking up the most space were the disassembled parts of his Type-3 Sword. Without delay, he immediately reassembled the blade, setting it to the side of his bed. Next, there was his spare self-service kit.

It was imperative that someone like him be on top of maintaining his parts, especially given that he wasn't likely to meet anyone who could get spares. As a result, he always carried a service kit on himself along with a spare in his luggage. He took a few minutes to make sure all the parts and tools were accounted for and matched between the two kits.

One of the smaller objects in his baggage was his primary sidearm, a handgun he'd received from a former soldier while he was in Turkey. It was the Yavuz 16, the Turkish-made version of the Italian Beretta 92. Amar didn't actually use guns all that often, but he did have the know-how.

Ordinarily, the gun would've been holstered at his side, but he opted to at least wait until he was on base before openly carrying. Foreigners with guns made people jumpy. Of course, now that he was here, he slipped the handgun into its holster at his side, where it could easily be reached and drawn in an emergency.

He'd considered also carrying his sword, which was his primary weapon of choice, but decided it would draw too much unwanted attention, and instead carried a short tactical machete which, most of the time, still drew an odd look here and there. Still, it was less conspicuous than a large battle sword that more resembled a saw than a proper weapon.

Finally, he had a bundle wrapped in cloth that held his personal clothing. It wasn't anything too special, but it was all he had left of his true home. He wore plain, weather-bleached robes that resembled a cross between the clothing of the Arabic desert nomads and the Central Asian peoples. He didn't know where the clothes came from, just that everyone around him had worn the same style. His best friend (or 'sister', as some people had called them) would take the time to make his outfits by hand. It was almost a uniform to him; in a ragged, misfit sort of way.

He went about neatly folding up his clothing and storing it either in drawers or hanging up his larger articles alongside the spare G&K uniforms that were already there, and as he finished up he did a quick review over the day's events so far.

He'd heard once before that T-dolls were pure of heart, but hadn't really understood what it meant until he met 40 and 45 today. 40 seemed to be a bit jaded towards humans, but even then she was able to trust him very quickly even before finding out he was an android. 45 had been looking for a good commander since she was first activated, and he was more than happy to oblige.

A part of him was glad they had already come to trust one another in an astoundingly short time, but another part of him was quite worried that they were vulnerable to people who had less honorable intentions. If all T-dolls were like that, then he'd have a lot of work to do to make sure they weren't taken advantage of.

One thing about the humans that he both disliked and liked was that they were even more diverse than the variety of androids he'd once known, and as a result there were still plenty that would side with the T-dolls when seeing them be abused. He'd have to start gathering like-minded individuals, and hopefully bring about change in the way some of the G&K officers operated.

There was a lot of work to do, that was certain.

"One step at a time, you know that." He muttered to himself, smiling wryly. The idea that someone like him, a 100% artificial being, was more similar to human beings than he was to the straightforward and pure-hearted T-Dolls around him struck him as both ironic and sad in many ways.

Would it have been better for their side in that endless, grinding war if they had been just a bit less human? It wasn't a question he cared to think about.

He took one final look around his quarters. Everything was put away neatly, and it looked ready to be lived in. Finished with his first task as Commander, he thought about what to do next. Unlike T-dolls that needed energy often either from charging or consuming foodstuffs, Amar could go extraordinarily long periods without needing any sort of supplemental power, but he still considered going to the mess hall to at least show his face.

Before he could make a choice, however, there was a knock on his door. Curious, he answered it right away.

"Ah...hello again, Commander." 45 was standing there with two trays of food in her hands, "We brought you some lunch...if you want it."

"We didn't see you at the mess hall when we got there, and none of the cooks remembered serving you so we figured you might be getting hungry," 40 chimed in from behind her sister, also holding onto a tray of food.

"Oh wow, thanks for that," Amar let them in, "I was just thinking about grabbing something to eat. But wait, how would the cooks know me already?"

"Duh, no one here looks like you." 40 laughed, "I just asked if they've served a tan foreigner and they were quick to say no."

"I-I see..." Amar grinned sheepishly.

"Here you go." 45 handed him one of her trays, this one had a deep red soup that smelled somewhat sour, accompanied by large puff pastry rolls with a savory meat filling. The drink it came with was one of the many varieties of soda that humans loved so much.

"This seems traditional," Amar raised an eyebrow at their plates, which unlike his, had generically western dishes such as burgers or chicken tenders.

"Ah...I thought you might not have had borscht before...and you might like something new..." 45's smile was a little unsure, "It doesn't suit your taste?"

"Oh no, it looks delicious," Amar assured her, "Thanks for taking such a little thing into account."

45 brightened up at his approval.

"Alright, welcome to our new lunch spot!" 40 had moved some cushions from the sofas down so they could all sit comfortably around the coffee table in his office.

"Hm?" Amar raised an eyebrow at her as he sat down.

"This place is already better than that dingy old cafeteria," 40 waved dismissively, "So if you don't mind, Commander, we'll be joining you here!"

Left unsaid was the knowledge of the awkward atmosphere that commonly came about between the two girls and the disapproving/disparaging G&K staff or sometimes even the more "useful" T-dolls. Amar might've picked up on that, and so decided to let it go.

"Well if you're okay with eating in an office, then who am I to stop you?" Amar grinned.

"You can tell us if we're bothering you...you're our Commander." 45 pointed out.

"Not a bother at all. I mean, it even saves me the walk if you guys bring me my food like this too," Amar joked lightly.

"I don't mind!" 45 brightened up and puffed up her chest, "I'll make sure to pick the best food from the menu for you, Commander!"

"I guess I'll help too." 40 smiled at her sister's enthusiasm.

"You're free to do whatever you like. But now, I believe it's time to eat." Amar gave a tip of the head in acknowledgment towards the meal, before digging in.

As the three settled into a relaxing meal and friendly conversation, they all couldn't help but think one thing:

They didn't remember the last time they all had such a warm, comfortable place to be. Hopefully, it'll continue to be this way for a long time to come.

**Chapter End**

* * *

_Word Count: 8727_

**Parting Note: I feel like I was a bit too wordy in some parts, and the opposite in others. Oh well, I can't pinpoint it so there it goes. Also, and I'll be repeating this for a long time to come, dialogue is hard for me. Any advice is welcomed!**


End file.
